


Obsolescence

by Reis_Asher



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Bittersweet, Deathfic, M/M, Post-Game, Slash, Tearjerker, connor and hank are life partners, did you bring tissues, guaranteed tears or your money back, i swear i don't own stock in kleenex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 03:44:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14886998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reis_Asher/pseuds/Reis_Asher
Summary: Nothing lasts forever. Not even pretty android boys with hearts of gold named Connor.Fifteen years on, Hank is faced with the fact that Connor needs a new Thirium regulator, but he's an obsolete model and the courts won't compel Cyberlife to create parts for him. Retiring from the force to spend more time with his partner, Hank feels increasingly like a man out of time himself - superfluous in a world that has moved on from the battle of their lives.





	Obsolescence

**Author's Note:**

> Connor and Hank make me smile.  
> Sometimes, Connor and Hank make me cry (play the dark timeline!).
> 
> I love my fluff and my angst, but my true love has always been bittersweet, so enjoy this tearjerker.

Hank stepped into the break room with a forced smile. The place had been decked out with streamers and banners announcing his retirement. Faces and names had come and gone over the years, and more and more of the officers and staff consisted of the sentient androids formerly known as 'deviants', but some things hadn't changed.

"Your little plastic boyfriend couldn't make it, Hank?" Gavin was still a world-class prick, one of the last holdouts against android rights, even now. He leaned up against a table, helping himself to pizza rolls and diet soda. Middle-age hadn't been kind to his good looks, or perhaps the amount of hate in his heart had corrupted him. That's what Hank liked to think, anyway.

"Haven't the dinosaurs come to take you away yet? Calling people 'plastic' went out of style fifteen years ago," Hank retorted. It was a tired comeback, but he was exhausted. The battle for android rights hadn't ended with Markus's protest—it had been fifteen long years of uphill climbing and even now, some people couldn't get with the fucking times. He and Connor still got looks in the street when they held hands—though part of that had to do with the fact that Connor still wore his LED. _"To remind me who I am"_ he'd said, though Hank suspected it was more to remind him of what he'd done. Unpacking all that guilt had been painful, but Hank had been there through it all, reminding Connor that it wasn't his fault, that he'd been manipulated by Cyberlife to betray his own people.

All good things came to an end, and his career was one of those things. He wished Connor could be here to enjoy the party, but that just wasn't possible. His Thirium regulator was weakening, and he'd spent long nights over a period of weeks trying to source a replacement. How fucked up was it that for androids, a black market organ trade was still a legal thing? They could call them parts, biocomponents—whatever they wanted—it was still a trade that caused endless harm and suffering, with older androids being sold to dealers in order to be broken down for parts.

That's why Connor didn't want a black market regulator, but supplies of compatible parts were thin. Both post and previous models of the RK series had incompatible regulators, and Cyberlife had always kinda sucked with backwards compatibility. They hadn't counted on people wanting to keep their androids this long. Connor's wishes or not, Hank was going to do whatever it took to save him.

Hank blinked to clear the tears welling in his eyes. He'd grown softer with age, the hard edges of his bitterness smoothing over time as Connor healed the hole in his life that Cole had left. It was hard to keep hurting when Connor was always smiling. Who knew that beneath his cool android exterior there had been a lost boy with a heart of gold who loved the shit out of him?

Hank had, and he'd been right on the money. The only bet he'd ever gone all in on and won. He half-heartedly ate some cocktail sandwiches and thanked everyone for the party, but his heart wasn't in it. He'd stopped loving the job when his partner had been forced into early retirement by Cyberlife's 'sunsetting' policy. No court had decided to compel Cyberlife into making parts for defunct models, and the RK800 had been rare enough that the court's decision was looking more and more like a death sentence for Connor.

Hank left the building with a gold-plated watch and a certificate of service. The rain came heavy, hitting the street in sheets. It matched his melancholy mood as he walked to his beater of a car. He had to turn the key three times before it turned over with a splutter. It was getting old. Like Connor. Like him.

All good things had to come to an end, but he wasn't ready to accept loss into his life once again. Hadn't he had his share? He'd buried his son, and now he had to bury his life partner as well? He let the self-driving module he'd installed take him home, his eyes too obscured with tears to drive. Anger took over. It wasn't fair. Not even slightly fucking fair. Why couldn't it be him with a heart problem? He'd take Connor's suffering on himself if that meant Connor could live. Why couldn't it be like in the movies where androids stayed young forever and outlived their human friends? Not that he wanted Connor to suffer his loss, but he'd lived a good, long life. Connor had barely even started. It was total _bullshit_.

The phone rang, and Hank was inclined to ignore it, even though the caller ID was Connor's. He couldn't afford to break down in front of Connor. He had to stay strong for him. But what if Connor needed him?

He answered, trying to keep the fear and pleading out of his voice. "Connor?"

"I've got some good news," Connor said. "Cyberlife have managed to source a working and compatible regulator. It's not cheap, but they've agreed to let us finance it. We can pick it up tomorrow."

"Whatever it costs," Hank said. "Tell them yes. I'll sell the house back to the bank. They can take everything, I don't give a fuck."

"Hank?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"Connor, I love you too. I gotta go." Hank's throat was tighter than a drum skin, his voice small and weak. "I'll be home as soon as I can." Hank switched the car over to manual drive and pulled over at the side of the road. The tears were already streaming down his face by the time the car came to a complete stop, like the rain that was pelting the windshield. Perhaps rA9 did exist after all, even if the human God didn't seem to be accepting prayers these days.

***

Hank opened the door and let himself in. He walked into their shared bedroom where Connor lay tucked into bed. He didn't need to sleep, obviously, but keeping him elevated and immobile kept as much strain off his Thirium regulator as possible.

"Got the gold watch and the certificate," Hank said, displaying the cheap watch in its gaudy display case. He'd never wear the damn thing—who the hell needed a watch these days, anyway? Connor was always good for the time, right down to the millisecond. The thing was as outdated and defunct as he was, and he tossed it in a drawer and sat on the edge of the bed where Connor lay.

Connor had aged his appearance a little, but his boyish charm was still there, even if he'd decided to give himself a couple of wrinkles and a few grey hairs. Hank leaned down and kissed him, holding nothing back. He was still tense, and wouldn't relax until that regulator was in Connor's chest where it belonged. He placed his hands over the spot where it hid beneath Connor's skin, as he had so many times before.

How delicate and precious life was. How fragile they all were. Images of the past echoed in his mind of androids being crushed to death in extermination camps. Of a Connor he himself had shot to save his own Connor's life. Could he do that now, destroy the likeness of the man he loved? He doubted it.

"Thinking about the past again?" Connor asked. "You look troubled."

"Yeah. Not very many happy memories from those times. But I'm glad I was there. The world's a different place now because of what we did, Connor. You and Markus and North and I and every android who accepted their deviancy as a thing of beauty and was willing to fight for it."

"There are some happy memories," Connor replied. "Remember when we first met? You wanted nothing to do with me."

"Those aren't happy memories. I was an asshole." Hank shook his head. "I regret everything I said."

"I don't. It led to everything we had. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here now, Hank. You saved me. You never gave up on me. You believed in me. You were the reason I became deviant, Hank. Not Markus or the deviants or all the horrors I witnessed, but you. Your belief. I didn't want to let you down by becoming 'just a machine'. So I started to understand more about what people other than myself felt and wanted. I learned more about what being deviant meant. I empathized with your suffering over the loss of your son. I found that more and more, I just wanted to see you smile again."

"You never told me that," Hank said, placing his hand over Connor's and squeezing. Sometimes, he wished he was an android himself, so he could probe Connor's mind and share memories the same way that North and Markus did. Their glory days were gone, but they would always have the memories.

"Hank?"

"Yeah?" Hank had that tight sensation in his throat again, like some unseen force was choking him.

"There is no Thirium regulator," Connor confessed. "I'm afraid I lied to you." His big brown eyes looked like a puppy's, sad and guilty, and Hank couldn't bring himself to be angry at Connor for something he'd known to be true all along.

"I know, Connor. If there was a regulator to be had, I'd have ventured into the depths of Hell to get it for you."

"That was never in any doubt, but thank you. Would you hold me, Hank?"

"Of course." Hank stripped off his clothes and climbed into bed beside Connor. Their lovemaking days were over—Connor was too weak to risk it—but holding him skin to skin like this was more intimacy than he ever could have dreamed of in the early days.

"You saved me too, Connor. I was ready to end my life until you came along. You gave me hope. Hope that after we're gone, the world will continue to strive towards being a better place. Hope that androids will be better people than humans were." Hank could feel Connor weakening beneath his hands, the mirage of his skin disappearing in places to reveal the metal underneath. Hank closed his eyes. He didn't want to see Connor like that. He'd seen enough twisted metal and blue blood to last him a lifetime.

He thought about Connor sitting on his desk, legs slightly apart. They'd been at the end of their rope, thrown off the case. He'd seen Connor's deviancy close to the surface, even if Connor hadn't been willing to admit it at that moment.

_"I want you to know I really enjoyed working with you. That's not just my Social Relations program talking. I—I really mean that. At least I think I do."_

_That's when I knew I loved you,_ Hank thought. _That's when I knew I'd do anything for you._ Picking a fight with an FBI agent was no minor thing, and the assault on Parkins had almost cost him his job.

Would've been worth it.

"I love you," Connor said. His voice had lost its youthful charm, reverting to a more mechanical timbre, but it was still undeniably his. The voice of the man Hank Anderson loved. Connor Anderson, the android detective that had reached into his broken heart and stitched it back together.

Connor became rigid and still beneath Hank's touch. He opened his eyes to see Connor's body lying on the bed. Though he didn't look like Connor any more. Just a grey, lifeless shell, a vessel for a greater soul that had now departed. Or something like that. Hank didn't buy into supernatural hokus-pokus, but he wanted to believe in something.

The future, then. He could believe he was leaving the world a better place.

He reached behind him and pulled out his gun from the bedside drawer. His trusty .357 Magnum. Connor had begged him to go on alone, but the pull of the other side was just too strong now Cole and Connor were both there.

If Connor was too obsolete to be saved, then so was he.

Hank took Connor's cold hand in one of his and squeezed, while the other rested on the trigger.

"I'm coming with you, sweetheart."

Hank pulled the trigger.


End file.
